The Slytherin King
by SuperFirst
Summary: On the eve of the greatest Hogwarts reunion ever, Hermione receives a message that could destroy her final year. She could ruin her time and spend the entire year slaying Malfoy, or she could help Malfoy find a place of power beside her- the likes of which he's never known. Dramione. Non-cannon.
1. Chapter 1 Hermione

Hermione

9:15 p.m.

The Burrow

The squeal coming from upstairs had everyone in the house running to the room Ginny Weasley was sharing with her bestie, Hermione Granger.

"What is it guys?! What's happened?" Ron called as he bound up the stairs two at a time.

His long legs carried him twice as fast as Harry's, who stumbled once or twice in his haste to get to the girls. It was Ginny's face which appeared in the doorway of the room as both Ron and Harry skid to a halt. The rest of the Weasley clan filed in soon after. Ginny's smile was bright and the motion lit up her face as she welcomed the hoard into the tight space.

"You won't believe it everyone! Hermione's done it!" she happily crowed to the room of onlookers.

Harry snatched his glasses off and began to clean them, a sure sign he was feeling nervous and confused. Hermione didn't look happy to him. She didn't even look like she noticed the crowd of ginger Weasley's in the room. Instead, there was a terrible frown on her face, as though whatever was on the parchment she held were some sort of sentencing. The contrast between the happy blotches of red on Ginny's cheeks and the mottled blotches on Hermione's cheeks were also a dead giveaway that something was wrong. For one, Hermione didn't flush. She was always rational, even when it came to things that upset her. In fact, there was only one thing Harry had ever found that could rile her to such a point that her skin would blemish, and that thing was Malfoy. The youngest Malfoy to be exact. The rich blonde prat who'd made it his life's goal to ruin the good fortune of all other's in their school by allowing death eaters into the home and sanctuary of nearly 1000 students, staffers, and house elves.

No, whatever Hermione was so intently looking at on that parchment couldn't be good. Her eyes were screwed up to the point where they were nothing but slits on her face, and her lips were pressed and pursed into an awful scowl. There was a sensation in the air of electrostatic. Harry knew it couldn't just be his imagination because the twins looked around and at each other in complete confusion before grinning and touching each other, sending mini-shocks right through their chests.

"Eer… Gin? What exactly is it that Hermione's done?" Harry hedged, though the grin on Ginny's face didn't falter.

"Head Girl, Harry! She's made Head Girl of course! Isn't it great? We're finally going to have a decent year at school. Hermione will be in charge. No more dark clouds. No more fear. No more Malfo-"

"I wouldn't be so sure of that next one Gin." Hermione harshly interrupted.

The scowl she'd so dutifully fixed on the parchment a moment ago lifted to shoot directly into the eyes of her best friends. They recoiled from the sheer force of it. Ron, going so far as to shudder.

"I can't deal with this right now," Hermione stated before thrusting the parchment at Harry and walking out. Moments later, the shower next door turned on and Hermione's music began to float from the walls. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley turned to each other in silent agreement to let the younger generations take this one as they had an inkling as to what the problem could be, and turned to head back downstairs with a quick, "Give Hermione our congratulations once she's feeling better, won't you dears?"

All remaining eyes turned to Harry for an explanation of the mixed signals they were receiving, Ginny included. He read the missive in silence for a moment, allowing no emotion to show on his face. At least, until he read the last bit, after which, a scowl to rival Hermione's appeared as though the letter were to inform him that The Dark Lord himself had been released from Hell on good behavior.

"What utter shite is this?!" he bellowed as he fisted the letter and shook it.

Ron's face was turning nearly as red as his hair in a show of solidarity to his friends. Whatever was bothering them would be sure to bother him twice as much. He just knew it! The twins, however, were quickly growing bored.

"Out with it then mate! What's got Hermione's knickers in such a twist?"

"Yeah, out with it!"

Harry looked up at the occupants of the room and breathed out slowly, his brow-line nearly covering his eyes. He looked first to Ron, who appeared to be in a fighting stance. Good, they would need that. Then he looked at Ginny. She was worrying her lip and wringing her hands. Probably feeling she'd been the one to upset Hermione for calling everyone up to see this debacle. The twins adopted serious looks for a change, finally beginning to understand that this situation wouldn't call for a show of fireworks. Not unless the sparks and flames were going to abolish whatever insanity had caused the ever-polite Harry Potter to shout and curse in their mother's home. Rather than express to them his extreme distaste for the message clutched in his fist, Harry decided to let the words speak for themselves.

"Dear Ms. Hermione Granger,

I, Professor Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, do hereby applaud you on your exemplary showmanship in the areas of courage, intellect, and compassion these past seven years. It is now my great honor to award you with the title of Head Girl for this coming school year. You will now lead your class and all other years alongside your counterpart and the Hogwarts staff as we attempt to revive our school and our community from this past year's suffering. The task ahead of you will be great Ms. Granger, but I believe in your abilities to unite the school houses for the betterment of all current students and for the future generations of Hogwarts Alumni. Enclosed is a list of duties you should expect to begin performing with your partner as early as August 23rd, on the train ride to school. Please wear your badge, indicating your status as Head, on the outer left pocket of your robe at all times, and do remember that no amount of misbehavior will be tolerated from either Head student whilst in your positions this coming year.

Once you have arrived at school, I will address both Heads at the close of speeches and the feast to pass instruction and the password to the Head Dormitories.

On a personal note, Ms. Granger, I am counting on you to make this arrangement work with your fellow Head. The decision in selecting our Head Boy this year was based on the knowledge that festering wounds will not heal. As such, we have brought back Mr. Draco (fucking) Malfoy under the conditions of good behavior and restitution to the school through service and leadership. I know that you of all people will understand the necessity of an education in its many facets.

You may owl me with questions and concerns regarding your Head Girl status any time before the start of Term on August 25th.

Professor M. McGonagall

Professor M. McGonagall

Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry".

Silence. Utter silence.

After Harry finished reading aloud, he looked around the room at the astonished faces. Ginny had her mouth covered with both hands, eyes wide in a silent scream. Both twins seemed to be thinking hard about something sinister. Likely some way to banish Malfoy without a trace. They could do it, but it probably wouldn't be permanent. Ron seemed to have been stunned. The normally belligerent red head was purple in the face, but his lips were pressed tight and he seemed to be fighting some internal battle.

"Ron? What do you say about this?" Harry asked.

He had expected Ron to blow his top just like he had, but… this was eerie. Ron had begun nodding his head, fists clenched at his sides. All of his colorings had begun to drain from the top of his head.

"That murdering bastard. That pansy-arsed blowhole. I can't believe he's done it again. What's it gonna take Harry? Hmm? What's it gonna take to finally get that ferrety blonde GIT out of our lives for good? And now McGonagall expects Hermione to share a dormitory with him?! He let death eaters into the school! He nearly got Katie Bell killed. He nearly got YOU killed. He nearly got ME killed! He SUCCEEDED in getting Professor Dumbledore killed! He's never given two shits about Hermione or anyone else's well-being! And she wants _HIM_ to lead the school?! What sick twisted game is she playing at? Eh, Harry?!"

Harry shook his head in the negative.

"I don't know Ron. But I'm gonna find out-"

"Don't waste your time Harry."

Hermione stood in the doorway, clad in a fluffy white towel and her bath shoes. Harry, Ron, and the twins stared at her in awe for a moment before catching themselves. It wasn't like Hermione to walk around in anything less than full attire.

She walked into the room with her head held high though, and one hand clutching closed the towel that protected her modesty. Her hair was still soaking wet and little droplets fell from the slightly curled tips onto her shoulders. She did not note how Ron's eyes followed those droplets from the soft curve of her collarbone down toward the tops of her pert breasts. He swallowed hard and averted his eyes, only to find Harry attempting to do the same, but failing miserably. Hermione walked slowly over a plush carpet to the bed Ginny occupied and sat next to her, crossing her legs at the ankle.

Harry had never noticed it before, but his friend had grown a lot these past few years. Her eyebrows were different- maybe she'd plucked them? They reflected her preference of natural beauty. Thick, straight, but not a hair out of place. A tiny pink scar shone just under the left of her beautiful almond shaped eyes. The hazel nut shade of which was most becoming paired with her lightly tanned, vaguely freckled skin. Other than the one blemish, there was not an imperfection to be found on his female counterpart. The straight bridge of her feminine nose led down to a lovely cleft above two of the plumpest pink lips he'd ever appreciated. She didn't have rosy cheeks like he remembered. The baby fat that used to fill out her face had sunken from the stress of months on the run whilst locating horcruxes. At least he'd thought so. It seemed now that maybe she'd just outgrown it while he was too busy to pay attention. There was a bronze sheen to her high cheekbones now. Natural. Sun-kissed. Healthy.

Interesting.

Harry licked his lips before delving into the topic few would ever wish to discuss. Never noticing the strange and panicked looks Ron was shooting him across the way.

"Hermione, what do you mean? It could never be a waste of time to protect-"

"No, Harry. I mean it. I've thought it over and… and I think Professor- Headmistress McGonagall is right." Hermione paused and looked around for understanding. No one moved a muscle.

"Allowing Malfoy back into the school _isn't_ a mistake?" Ginny asked.

She was timid in her approach, as though she thought perhaps Hermione had cracked. Rather than proving Ginny's thoughts wrong, Hermione smiled. A creepy serene smile that brought a dim light into her eyes.

"No… I don't think it is. Think about it. He was acquitted of all charges by the Wizengamot. Sitting on the Board of Representatives were Kingsly Shacklebolt, who is now Minister for Magic. Also, there were representatives for most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, including your father Ron. Malfoy's age, his father's status as a Death Eater, his mother's deal with Snape, his upbringing, his fear-"

At this, Ron stepped forward.

"Fear?! Hermione, what are you saying? You think Malfoy was _scared_? The bloody idiot fixed a cabinet that allowed who knows how many Death Eaters into a school for children! Rapists! Murderers! Psychopaths! Dementors! Werewolves, and who knows whatever else!"

"Ronald-"

"No! I won't understand this Hermione. I can't. I just can't. His father nearly killed my baby sister. And he nearly killed me. They're bad eggs Hermione and no Malfoy should ever be allowed to set foot in Hogwarts again. There isn't a punishment great enough for everything he's put us through. Right? Gin, am I right?"

Ron stood in the center of the room now. He made a slow turn as though he didn't recognize his surroundings. Hermione turned slightly to address Harry instead.

"Malfoy was practically King of Slytherin House. Every one of them listened to him. Followed him. As though they could achieve a greatness by following his lead. You've seen it, Harry. If Hogwarts remains segregated, nothing will change. All we have done will have been a moot point. There may even one day be another Lord Voldemort. So think about it, Harry. How do we create an environment where everyone is included? Rest assured they won't listen to me. They might fear your strength, Ron's temper, and my brain, but they will never follow us. They won't understand, those younger years. Draco Malfoy? They know him or know _of_ him. They will be able to learn from his mistakes if he is so willing to teach them."

Harry gave the floor a very hard look as he began nodding. So slow were his movements, Hermione wasn't even sure he was actually doing it.

"Yes Hermione, but what makes you think Malfoy would be willing to teach anyone anything? His entire life is one giant fuckup."

"That's why. How often does someone get a chance to start over? With a promotion to boot? Sending Malfoy to Azkaban will have gotten rid of that problem, but there would be sixty more waiting at Hogwarts. Keeping Malfoy in the dungeons would allow him to blend in, maybe. He could get an education, but at what cost? No one could look after him down there. The rest of the snakes would either eat him alive for being the fuckup that he is, or they would attempt to help him finish what he started like the total fuckups that they are. How do we give a weak boy who made all the wrong decisions in life a chance to redeem himself plus get an education, and allow others to learn from him- and how do we keep him safe whilst doing it? We put a spotlight on him and make him an example. Total reformation."

Ron remained skeptical in his appearance, but the twins thought maybe Hermione was on to something. They tilted their heads in polite contemplation of what she had said before raising their fingers in perfect unison.

"So where to start with the Great White Ferret's reformation, Hermione?" they asked.

Hermione lifted her hand in the direction of Ginny's study desk. Sitting atop it was a copy of the Daily Prophet, and a copy of the Quibbler. Ginny went straight for the Quibbler, preferring truthful accounts of the news to the Prophet's fish-eyed tales. She handed it to Hermione, and Hermione flipped to one of the center pages. There was no flashy photograph or gigantic title for this small article, but the words told big news.

" **Sons of Death Granted New Life** " it read. A short list of names told readers that there were a chosen few Death Eaters who were going to serve an eight-month probation period, without magic, in scattered muggle neighborhoods across the world. It gave names, dates for beginning sentences, and countries in which these Death Eaters would be housed. No real specifics were given for locations. Probably for fear that someone may attempt to search them out for a bit of retribution.

"There. Draco A. Malfoy. USA. May 25th, 1999. 10 months." Hermione read the last bit with a hitch of surprise in her voice. Malfoy had been dealt extra time. It didn't seem fair, but who was she to complain.

"What do you suppose he's doing there? Probably lying on a beach…" Ron started, but Hermione shook her head.

"No Ronald. While in their foster homes, Death Eaters are meant to learn to live without magic for the purpose of understanding what they couldn't before about muggles. These people are privileged beyond belief and have never had to work for much beyond telling their house elves what to do. For goodness sakes, the elves even punish themselves. Here, they will walk on their own two feet, cook their own meals, work for a living, take transportation the muggle way if necessary. They will learn to operate seemingly inanimate objects and learn about electricity. Perhaps they could even find reasons to help upgrade the magical communities. Think about it Harry, a tele in the dorm rooms! Let's not forget that each of the people on this list is someone influential."

Harry grudgingly began to nod his head again.

"I see where you're going with this Herms, but I just don't know. What if he, Malfoy, can't make this work? What if he hasn't changed his views on anything?"

"That's exactly my point. Malfoy has never _had_ a viewpoint on anything. He has always just done what he was told to do by his father. Professor McGonagall wants to see what his probation time has done for him. She wants to see if we can use him for the betterment of the school. She wants him to see me differently."

Everyone took some time to process the information. It was difficult. Could Malfoy be trusted? No. Could he be brow beaten? Yes. Would he reform? Maybe. Could he be a stand-up citizen? They didn't think so. Did Hermione take a five-minute shower and come to a conclusion about this? Definitely. What to do, what to do… The twins, beyond all odds, were the first to speak.

"Well, I feel sorry for you Herms!"

Hermione lowered her eyebrows and frowned in confusion.

"Sorry for what?"

"Your year with Malfoy is going to be an interesting one."

"And you won't have us there to make it even _more_ interesting!"

"We've been working on a great new recipe called 'Wanker's Delight'!"

"You just slip it into the wanker's pumpkin juice and,"

"Wait for it!"

"WHAMO! They spill all their dirty secrets, their most embarrassing life's moments to whoever is near enough to hear it! They don't stop!"

"We were attempting to brew Veritaserum, but we're nowhere near as gifted as you."

Hermione looked ready to spit acid on the two.

"That's barbaric! And completely unethical! The two of you are going to lose your license to brew if you keep that up! Has it even been sanctioned by the Department for the Regulation and Control of-"

 _CRACK! CRACK!_

Both twins were gone in the blink of an eye, leaving a gaping brunette, a smirking ginger, another smirking ginger, and a smiling raven head behind. Feeling the need to offer some support to his friend, Harry put his hand on Hermione's shoulder, noting her skin was completely dry now, and her hair was beginning to frizz. She looked up at him with a red tipped nose and he smiled down at her.

"Alright, Herms. If you really think you've got it figured out, because Merlin knows I don't, then I'm willing to follow you for a change. It's not likely there's anything we can do about this anyway as we've been able to change McGonagall's mind on just about ohhh… nothing in the past."

Ron shuffled his feet towards the door to the girl's room, hands in his pockets. He appeared to want to argue but really wanted to put forth a new effort this year. No more temper tantrums. He wanted to grow up. Be a man. They were eighteen now after all. Nineteen for Hermione. Adults.

"Alright then. But Merlin help me, Hermione. If he harms one hair on your head, or if he looks at me the wrong way, like if he blinks just one eye! I will hammer him. When that happens, no Auror is going to be able to save him. I mean it."

Hermione smiled at her boys. They really were growing up. She didn't know what this school year would bring, but she knew that she had dreamed of being Head Girl ever since she'd read her first copy of _Hogwarts, A History_. If she had to share her dream job with the likes of Malfoy, well, she wouldn't let him ruin this for her. She would do what she had to do to steer him in the right direction or avoid him all together.

A soft snoring drew the three friend's attention to Ginny's side of the room. No one had seen her move, but Ginny was tucked underneath the covers, sleeping like a baby. Content to let the three who had saved her countless times take the lead once again and figure this out. Whatever outcome they decided on by morning would be one that most of the school would follow up on. Of this, she was certain.

Hermione smiled as the boys filed out of the room, saying their goodnights. Closing the door, she turned and allowed the soggy towel to drop to the floor. Her twins sprang free and the peachy tips jiggled a bit as she walked in front of the mirror to the wardrobe. She sighed in contemplation as she pulled out a pair of sleep shorts and pulled them on. They were small and ran inside the crack of her ass, but they were still soft and comfy. It was definitely time for a new wardrobe, however. A little Sleak-Easy and her hair was once again frizz-free and petal soft. Forgoing a top altogether, Hermione exhaustedly flopped down onto her borrowed cot. Three days. Just three days and she would be back on the Hogwarts Express.

"I am homeward bound." She whispered to the room, then licked her thumb and forefinger to extinguish the candlelight that kept her from total darkness.


	2. Chapter 2 Draco

Draco

4:49 p.m.

Malfoy Manor

"Mate, if you wait any longer to buy your school things, you won't need to worry about the train ride. Cause you won't be there! You'll be here, crying in your mum's skirts like a little blighter who can't hack it! Now man up, put on some decent robes, and let's go!"

To the blonde's complete discredit, he sank further into the cushion of his father's 800-galleon leather wing-back. The unbelievably frilly chair did a good job of swallowing him but refused to finish the job by taking him completely. Rubbish old thing.

"You go on Blaise. I'll just order my things through the owl post. It'll arrive tomorrow afternoon and I'll be at the station on time."

"When you say, 'on time', what you mean is you'll show up right before the train takes off, nearly miss it, and expect for me to pull your sorry arse aboard as the damned thing is moving! _IF_ YOU MAKE IT AT ALL!" Blaise practically screeched.

Backing up slightly and squinting his eyes, Draco took note of the severe change in his friend. While his dark skin was as pristine as ever and his eyes shone with more intelligence than he'd previously been known for, the temper Blaise was notorious for hiding was a loose-cannon now. On display for everyone to see. _How disgusting,_ Draco thought. But Merlin, they'd both had summers worthy of suicide, hadn't they? After all, Blaise had been carted off to France. _Muggle_ France! And Draco knew how Blaise hated the French. The poor bloke had nearly torn his skin off at his hearing. Hearing... Thinking back on the ridiculous cover for _sentencing_ made Draco's blood boil even now. Both he and Blaise had been acquitted, but the ministry had still dealt them punishments. And Draco had been flown out to the United States. The MUGGLE way, or as the American Wizarding Council called it, "NoMaj". He knew everyone back home would laugh at him for being forced to live among NoMaj's. He knew every one of his friends thought he'd go mad for the lack of magic too. A Malfoy? With no magic? Unthinkable. He wouldn't last a day.

Only he had. 280 days to be exact. Every one of them difficult and hellish for its challenge. At first, Draco couldn't tell whether the Council, in cooperation with the Wizengamot had made it so, or if muggles just lived like that on purpose. Bulky box-cars whipping around on asphalt, broomsticks cleaning dirt instead of flying, dishes washed by hand, lights you have to manually turn off and on, human elves called maids- which his host family could _not_ afford. It was enough to-

"Helloooo?"

No, the Gentry's were your average middle-class American family of squibs and "Normi's", as the "young folks" called them. _Normi_. Draco shook his head at the notion. There was nothing _normal_ about the way they lived at all. At least there wasn't that he could tell. His first day on probation had been a very interesting one indeed. He'd managed to burn himself on two different appliances, he'd burned his breaky, burned his lunch, and burned his supper- not to mention his tea, he'd burned that too.

"Draco? Mate? Are you there?"

Draco blinked and looked curiously up as Blaise held his large hands in front of his face. Squinting at the potential threat, he began to sneer with an ugly curl of his lip.

"Just what the hell are you doing Zabini? Trying to confound me? Well it won't work! The NoMag's took me to see a spy-acitrist and I can't be confounded. Something to do with my brain being so well endowed. They even took special note of my large cranium-"

"You saw a psychiatrist?"

"You know what one is?"

"Of course. They have them in France you know. But I didn't think you'd make use of one. How'd it go?"

Draco looked off into the distance as he remembered the large office of one Dr. Laura Pirocelli. There was a big, green, leafy plant in one corner, set in an intricate gray basin made of porcelain. Some calming fragrance swept through the air- soft, sweet, but not cloying- and Draco felt remarkably comfortable as he took a seat on her black leather sofa. This was nothing like the mind healer's department at St. Mungo's with their poking and prodding. Nor their gross, sterile smell, like many a death had occurred there and been covered up. Dr. Pirocelli was young too. Maybe in her mid-to-late thirties, and she appeared calm behind her tortoise-shell glasses. She smiled at Draco and complimented him on his interesting name. She knew a lot about astrology it seemed, and Draco appreciated that.

There was a popping noise coming from the way of the fireplace in his father's study. Draco blinked himself back to the present just in time to see Blaise shoot him a worrying glance and depart without further ceremony. How long had he been daydreaming? And was he smiling?

"Eh. Whatever."

He hadn't even gotten to tell Blaise the reason why he didn't want to go to Diagon Alley in the first place. Though it was probably obvious he didn't want to be ogled like some Veela in the forest. Students would surely hate him even more now that they all knew he'd been made Head Boy. Just what in the bleeding hell had McGonagall been thinking? Hermione effing Granger had taken up her position as Head Girl. So Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and all of their ilk would surely know by now who had taken Head Boy. There would be flames. There would be lightning. There would be anarchy. But Draco, try as he might, he didn't want to give up his miracle of miracles. Head Boy was as prestigious a position now as it had ever been. It would make his father- no, his Mother proud. It would make his mother proud to know that her only son, through all of the trials and tribulations he had endured in that school, through all of the destruction and damage to the school and its inhabitants- the blame for which rested solely on his shoulders- had prevailed. And though some other boy, ANY other boy would have been a better candidate, Narcissa Malfoy nee Black's only son had been chosen above all others for Head Boy. A position he could even put on his resume once school was finished.

Thirst. Hunger. Redemption.

These three words rang soundly in Draco's ears. They meant that he would be going back to school, and he would take charge of his own destiny. But first he would have to show his face in public. He would have to face the humiliation that came with being associated with the failed death eaters and their psychotic leader. A man who was not a man. A snake in human clothing. A demon among children.

Draco closed his eyes and took in a shaky breath. He'd been over this. With the doctor, for 10 months, he'd been over this. Setting his jaw in a straight line, Draco stood and went over to the window of the study. Out in the garden were several of his mother's white peacocks. They danced around each other and called out in glee. Another shaky breath. Then another. PTSD she had said. Draco felt terrible laying claim to any mental repercussion of the war, feeling that he had caused so much damage that there should never be any diagnosis for his guilt.

"Ory!"

 _CRACK!_

"Master is calling Ory, Sir?"

A sigh escaped Draco's lips as he looked down at the little elf in black embroidered pillow stitching. Were they out of cotton cases?

"Yes, Ory. I need you to see that my school things are ordered and have arrived by 4 p.m tomorrow evening. Can you handle that? I don't want any slip ups and it is imperative that everything on this list is procured. Am I clear?"

Ory's large blue eyes lit up the room as he grasped the parchment from Draco's hand. He was a new elf in the manor. Fairly new anyway as he'd been received from the Nott's residence just one week before Draco was carted off to the States. Ory was meant to replace Dobby as that elf was either dead or dying from the enchanted knife Aunt Bella had launched at him. Though Dobby himself had been inexplicably freed, he remained with Narcissa when she called for him.

"It is Ory's honor to be picking up Master's school things, Sir!" the elf gave a grand bow as he would any master of the Nott family.

Heaving a puff of air and appraising the elf with a firm nod of his head, Draco released him to do his bidding, praying Blaise's worries were unfounded and that he would make the train with time to spare. One more look through the garden window proved that the sudden gloominess in the study was owed to the setting sun in the distance.

A bath was in order.

Draco made his way to his bedroom to select a nightly wardrobe. On his way, he noted how much of his family's manor house was the exact same as it was before he left. The stone manse was cold and unfeeling. The flowers in their expensive vases were vibrant and healthy as ever, curtesy of his mother's magnificent stasis charm. The paintings which hung in the corridor- all that were left anyway- were silent as though in mourning. The Malfoy family matriarchs and patriarchs uttered not a word as he walked, turning away from him in silence. Draco couldn't tell whether it was from sadness, that they had helped to make this spectacle of the family, or disgust that Draco couldn't hold up against the pressure of it as they had. That silence was all around him. Given that any of the faucets in the manor were leaky (which they were not), he was sure he would be able to hear it for the silence.

As he reached his bedroom and undressed with the lights out, Draco realized he had done nothing today, and yet he felt as though his body were covered in grime. He sighed as he ran one calloused hand through his fine blonde hair and the other over his chest. _Breathe out_. Three welted scars lay over his left pectoral muscle. He didn't remember receiving the wound but could clearly remember the gashes in his black satin dress shirt. He had been wearing it the night of the battle in unison with his favorite black suit. It was the only one that ever truly fit his lithe frame, he recalled with a rueful smirk. So arrogant he had been. By the time the battle was over, not only was his favorite suit ruined, but so was most of his skin, his perfect hair, and his ego. Ruined. All of it. He was now as scarred inside and out as Potter.

Draco stood there in his room, slowly undressing with languid movements of his fingers. The button of his trousers gave way to the slow unzipping of his fly. Two thumbs gently looped into the waistband of his slacks, then released them to float down to the floor. Black boxer briefs were next to go and Draco smiled at that. There was something the muggle's had gotten right. Before leaving his home, Draco had only ever known boxers. Not boxers like one might see in an Ad on the TV (an invention he would be sure to vouch for admitting into the school by the way) but the old fashioned, diaper boxers which made your trousers look frumpy and wasted fabric. No, these muggle underwears were far superior to that.

Draco released the soft material to join his trousers on the floor and felt his flaccid member swinging in the night breeze. He waited a moment but didn't smell anything. With a shrug, he picked up the first set of night clothes set on his dresser and made his way into the bath. Here, only candle light flickered through the darkness as Draco sat in his water. He had yet to begin cleansing, but he was relaxed. He hadn't seen anyone but Blaise and Pansy since he'd returned home. In fact, he'd even been too scared to pick up the Daily Prophet and see if they'd written anything about him returning to the school he destroyed. Hell, he wondered if there was anything written about Potter and Granger returning to the school they helped save. This would be their second time attempting 7th year.

He was sorry. Not in words, but at heart. McGonagall had made him Head Boy. What to do, what to do…

Draco sank down beneath the water and held his breath. That seemed like a good place to start. He just prayed he wouldn't do anything to fuck this up.


	3. Chapter 3 Diagon

Weasley Family +2

10:16 a.m.

Diagon Alley

"That's it everyone! Straight through here! Now, Harry dear, Hermione, let me see those lists. Ah, yes- Harry's got the same suit as Ron." Mrs. Weasley assessed the situation of her nest as surely as she had on each of their first days of school.

The hustle and bustle of the paved roads in Diagon Alley always caused her to feel rushed and overwhelmed. Ron rolled his eyes after receiving a playful nudge from Harry over her theatrics while Hermione giggled good-naturedly. The threesome was well used to this by now, though it was a bit embarrassing as all were completely able to do their own shopping, Ginny included. They let Mrs. Weasley take charge today because this would be the last time she ever got to do it and _clearly_ , it would be something she missed.

"Mum, we're just gonna go and visit that quidditch shop over there" Ron said as his mother tripped over her own feet and moved ahead without him.

"Yes, yes. Ok then, Ron! You boys just best behave yourselves… and keep an eye out for your sister!"

"I can take care of myself Mum…" Ginny mumbled as she excused herself to follow Hermione in the direction of the book shop. Hermione, having departed as soon as she saw Harry 'discreetly' pointing in the direction of Quality Quidditch Supplies, grinned back as Ginny jogged to catch up to her. The girls rather relished their quality time together since there weren't many other girls Hermione could talk to who weren't obsessed with hair and makeup charms. And while Ginny _did_ like to talk about quidditch, much like the boys, she enjoyed Hermione's practical disposition on most subjects, including boys. Hermione may have been crazy over her brother, but when it came to relationships not her own, she gave good advice.

"Sooo… I may have something to tell you Hermione…" Ginny began as they linked arms and continued down their path.

The crowd was really getting thick up here and Hermione could just barely make out what her friend was saying over the calling of the shop owners to the parents and first-time students. Passing a glance to her left, she saw that Ginny was avoiding eye contact, and just behind her, a most curious sight—an elf in a silky black pillow case was juggling a tall stack of books atop his head whilst arguing with a terrifyingly mean-looking owl. Odd.

Refocusing on Ginny, she noticed that the other girl's face was set straight forward while her mouth twisted up and her eyes darted from side to side. She was being shifty, but giving her the benefit of the doubt, Hermione also looked about the area, wondering if they were keeping a secret from someone. Seeing no obvious threat, she glanced back toward her red-headed sister and frowned slightly.

"Well…? Are you going to tell me what it is?" she asked in annoyance.

Ginny's eyes shot over to the brunette quickly and immediately darted away again causing Hermione to huff in irritation and drop her arm. The girls stopped walking just outside the door to Flourish and Blott's where people continued to push past them and carry on their boisterous conversations. Ginny turned to face Hermione, a deep flush creeping up from the collar of her purple and white polka-dot shirt and resting just underneath her chin. The splotches she sported on her cheeks spoke volumes to the older girl. Ginny had done something, probably to someone, that she shouldn't have done- and now Hermione was going to have to bail her out.

Rolling her eyes to the heavens, Hermione sucked in a deeply calming breath and held it for a moment before exhaling through her nose. A few blinks later and she summoned her best comforting tone to coax the information out of Ginny.

"Look, whatever it is, you wouldn't have brought it up if you didn't think I should know about it. And it appears it's bothering you- whatever it is. Why don't we just talk about it and see what can be done—"

"I slept with someone."

"….."

Hermione blinked several more times before her own cheeks started to turn pink. She knew Ginny was searching her face for signs of anger and, determined to not be judgmental (as she was prone to do), she fixed her eyebrows low on her forehead to accommodate a more peaceful and non-threatening façade. Nodding slowly, Hermione attempted to gather her thoughts. What did she know about sex? Was Ginny even talking about sex? Did 'sleeping' with someone constitute sex? How would Ginny even know what to do in that situation? Was this her first time, or was she a pro? What did that make Ginny? Hell, what did that make Hermione? She'd never had time to engage in anything more than a gentle snog on a dark stairway…Hell!

"It's alright Gin, maybe we can skip the bookshop and go somewhere more private? To… to talk?"

Ginny's body seemed to deflate with relief. Hermione could see tears welling in the younger girl's eyes as she gave a watery smile and grabbed Hermione's hand to walk off toward a set of barren picnic tables nearby the ice cream shop. Opting to buy a set of vanilla cones to talk over, they sat down with their sweet treats and tried to find a good place to begin. A few minutes of silence passed with the girls just awkwardly looking around and licking their ice creams before Ginny decided to "take the Avada".

"Look, Hermione, I don't want you to be mad… and I know you must be at least a little bit upset with me right now. I just… ugh! I don't know what else to do and I feel like it's gonna come out sooner or later and I'd like to be the one you heard it from."

Hermione shook her head and tried to make sense of what Ginny was telling her.

"Gin, it isn't my place to know what you're going with your body… nor is it anyone else's. If you weren't hurt or forced, and you're ok with what you did, then that's all that matters. Whoever this guy… or girl… was, must have been someone special because I've never known you to entertain fools."

Ginny smiled at Hermione's tactful way of asking if she was gay. Trust Hermione to try and get all the facts before deciding about something. She sighed and pumped her shoulders a few times to get herself going.

"You're right Hermione… and I'm not gay… I just… this guy… he wasn't, I mean… uhm…"

"Just spit it out Gin. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I don't want anyone else to know!"

"Then they won't! I'll never tell, I swear it. But I can't help you Gin, if you won't tell me."

Ginny pumped her shoulders again and stretched her neck back. Hermione thought she looked a bit like she was gearing up for a fight. Godric, but it couldn't be that bad. From everything she knew of the act, it was really meant to be pleasurable to both parties. What was Ginny honestly concerned about?

Pausing her internal tirade, Hermione opened both ears to hear what Ginny was about to say as her mouth parted.

"You remember me telling you about the night I snuck out to hang with Parvati and Padma?"

Hermione nodded her head. Ginny said they'd met up at the Leaky before going out into London for an evening of music, fun, and admittedly, a little drinking. But Ginny had returned home safely and at a decent hour from what she could tell.

"I remember Gin. What's bothering you, love? This isn't like you at all." She said earnestly.

Ginny's eyes began to tear up again and she looked down at her now empty hands as several droplets fell onto her skin. Sniffling a bit, she spoke to the ground while Hermione scooted closer to comfort her.

"There were lots of boys there, at the dance hall. And I thought it'd be cool of me to play around with some of them. I really only meant it as some harmless fun… but this one guy really caught my fancy, you see?" she sniffled again, and Hermione squeezed her hand to keep her grounded.

Breathing harshly through her parted lips, Ginny rolled her wet eyes up toward the sky and shrugged her shoulders haphazardly.

"Gods Hermione, I only meant to play a bit, or 'get my feet wet' as Padma put it. I didn't even really mean to go all the way, but I did. I let him, you know? And it was alright, but it wasn't what I'd expected. It didn't even really feel good. Just like a lot of pressure and then he was getting off me. I'm so embarrassed." She laughed incredulously.

Hermione could tell that Ginny was angry. With herself, or with this guy, she didn't know.

"Was it something you didn't want Gin? _Did_ he force you?"

"No! no… he didn't force me. It just sucks! You know? He's a muggle and I don't even know his name…"

Hermione smiled here. Kids made mistakes all the time. Ginny could move past this. They were going back to school after all. There would be plenty of distractions, committees to join, or quidditch. Ginny loves quidditch.

"But Mum's going to think I'm a whore!"

"Alright now Gin. You're just being plain silly. Your mother would never think you were a whore. Especially seeing how she has so many children herself."

 _There_ , Hermione thought. _Argue with that logic!_

"And besides, this outing of yours was _ages_ ago! If nobody found out then that you'd done the deed, what makes you think it would come out now? Was this boy a wizard?"

"No."

"So, a muggle then. And it must have been what? Two? Three months ago, now?"

"Yes, exactly two months and 16 days."

Hermione paused again. She'd heard of girls who became attached to the men they lost their virginities to, but counting the days? Hermione frowned a dark and foreboding frown. Something wasn't right. She looked up from their joined hands to find Ginny's blue sapphire's staring directly back into her hazel eyes. She blinked back tears as Ginny smiled at her finally understanding.

"I'm not going back to school with you guys, Hermione."


	4. Chapter 3 Pt2

Ch. 3 Cont'd

The girls sat in relative silence over the next few moments. Neither wanting to say aloud what sort of trials Ginny would be facing in the very near future. Her mother would flip for damned sure… and her _father_ … Hermione couldn't even imagine it. She looked over at her friend, who seemed to be daydreaming, and found she was rather in wonder at the implication of early motherhood. But with such a strong woman as Molly Weasley for a role model, maybe Gin would be ok? Time would tell and all that.

"There you guys are! We've been looking everywhere for you!"

Ron's voice interrupted their thoughts just as Hermione was working up the courage to say something inane like, "it'll be ok". The surreal atmosphere effectively broke, she opted instead to keep her mouth shut and smiled up at the two boys as they jogged into sight. They both seemed extremely pleased about something. Harry even skipped a little as he approached with a boyish grin.

"Hermione! You weren't in the bookshop like we thought you'd be! So, we went over to that ink shop you like, and you'll never believe who we saw there!" he stated excitedly as he took a seat next to Gin. Ron stood nearby, pivoting up and down on the balls of his feet with obvious excitement that Hermione shook her head at. She hadn't heard about anything exciting being scheduled to happen in the town today. Surely there would have been something in the Prophet?

Confused and a bit apprehensive, Hermione wracked her brain to figure out what acquaintance the two could have met which would elicit this sort of reaction from them, but she honestly couldn't think of anyone worthwhile.

"I'm stumped Harry. Who did you see?" she asked.

Glad that they would be able to break the news to their brainy friend, Harry and Ron looked triumphantly at each other and said at once, "Pansy Parkinson!".

"I'm sorry?"

"Pansy Parkinson!" they repeated.

Hermione bit down on her lop at this. There was a total blank in her mind where she thought the logic should be for that statement. Glad she wasn't alone, she noticed Ginny squint at the boys with a frown. Pansy Parkinson wasn't on anybody's favorite's list after last year when she attempted to give Harry up to Death Eaters at school. In fact, Hermione hadn't even given her a passing thought since the girl was shuttled off to the dungeons for her stupid command that they "grab him". Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she breathed in and tried to decipher whatever nonsensical code the boys were trying to pull off.

"Just to be clear, you're excited because… Parkinson… was in the Indigo Inkwell? Is that right?"

Both boys nodded enthusiastically.

"She was getting supplies for school! She's going back to school Hermione! Your plan is working!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione tipped her head at Ron with a wry smile.

"What plan?"

This caused both boys to become still with identical pouts.

"The plan! Where Malfoy goes back to school to influence and lead other Slytherins on our behalf? Well… surely Parkinson is only returning because he is, right? And we've seen Nott in Madam Malkin's. And the Greengrass sisters. They're both here." Ron explained.

"No sign of Malfoy himself though… that could be a problem… maybe we could owl him?"

Hermione stared, bug-eyed, at Harry's suggestion. Owl Malfoy? And tell him WHAT?!

"What exactly is it you guys plan on telling him Harry? To meet up with us so we can discuss his parole-treatment and the future of neo-fascists in Hogwarts?" Ginny asked.

Hermione stared at her longingly. She would need her this coming year and look at them _now_! This situation didn't call for Harry and Ron's brash tactics! It would call for subtlety and quiet reconnaissance. Leave it to the boys to just- go for it!

"Guys, I don't think notifying Malfoy of our intentions is the right thing to do here. The last thing we need is for him to see that we're attempting to manipulate him- I can't imagine that going over well. And besides, if he has changed even the smallest bit – "

"Tch"

"RONALD. If he has changed even the _smallest_ bit, then it won't take much to persuade him in the right direction."

That said, Harry shrugged his shoulders looking put out. Unfortunately, there was nothing for him to do in this situation but sit back and not make things worse. If the Slytherins were gearing up for school, then perhaps they were coming with new agenda's. Otherwise, why bother?

"I just think it'd be best to wait this out and see where the beginning of the school year takes us, is all." Hermione finished.

Ginny stood up then and faced off with her brother and ex-boyfriend.

"Hermione's right. We don't know about the others or Malfoy yet. McGonagall may have made him Head Boy, but he hasn't begun his duties and we don't know if the Slytherins will try and force him to let them off easy. Before we go inviting him to tea, maybe we should see what he does with his new title?" she suggested.

Harry gave an affirmative nod and looked sheepishly toward Hermione.

"Yeah, I guess so… I just want to help. Hogwarts is my home, you know? I can't see it destroyed again, especially not at the hands of Malfoy or the other Slytherins."

"If he tries anything-"

"We know Ron. The hammer."

Ron smiled at this. Then looking around, he sighed.

"So, what were you two doing over here anyway? You don't even have any bags, Hermione. Didn't you want to get the extra books? You've only been talking about them all summer. Don't tell me you want to just relax this year?" he asked hopefully.

"Reading _is_ relaxing Ronald." Hermione smiled.

She looked to Ginny to see the poor girl turning red again. Not knowing what else to do, she stood up and grasped Ron by the hand. He was surprised but didn't shake her off.

"Come on guys, we were just having a bit of girl talk, but I really _do_ want those books. Shall we grab them before we get lunch? On Harry?" she winked.

Harry smiled good-naturedly and slung his arm around her free side. Ron's smile faltered a bit, though it held in the face of competition and the three began walking up the busy road back to the book shop. Stopping short, Ron looked back to the bench they'd just left.

"Where's Ginny? Didn't she want to come?" he asked.

Harry looked around for the young red-head, but finding no sign of her, he turned to Hermione.

"We didn't interrupt something, did we? Were you two needing space?"

Hermione hugged Harry around his middle for his thoughtfulness, then took Ron's hand back up.

"I think she's gone off to find your Mum, Ron. There was something she needed to ask about before the term begins."

The boys nodded as they walked along and chatted amiably about this and that. Hermione wondered if she should warn them about the, no doubt, intense dinner they would all be sharing come evening, or if she should just act like she had no idea about Ginny's news. The laughter of her two closest friends made that decision for her. She would let Ginny tell her own news in due time, and meanwhile, she would enjoy the last bit of summer fun she would have with the boys this year. Everything else could wait.

* * *

Ginny found her mother coming out of Madam Malkin's Robe shop. It must have been on Hermione's list as she'd outgrown many of her old clothes. Nervously, she wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt as she approached her mother with dread in her heart.

"H-hi Mum, would you like any help with those?" she asked, noting her mother's growing supply of knick-knacks.

Without waiting, she took several bags and an animal from her mother's grasp and smiled indulgently at the older woman's loving persona. She really hoped to be like this one day, with her own children… when she was married… and an adult. Hiccupping, Ginny was mortified to find her eyes and cheeks growing wet right there in the middle of the paved road with so many strangers walking around and her mother attempting to hang on to Ron's new pet lizard.

"Thank you, Ginny, I was nearly… Gin? Oh, Ginny dear! Come here, tell me what's wrong? Where is that brother of yours?" the Weasley matriarch asked in a growing panic.

She watched her only daughter break down in the middle of Diagon Alley while holding Hermione's new robes in one hand and her brother's lizard by the tail in her other. She could only ascertain that perhaps her sweet Ginny was overwhelmed by the coming school year and everything that took place to make it possible. She _had_ been remarkably stoic about most of the aftereffects of the war when all the dust had settled. Perhaps she hadn't been alright after all?

"Come here Ginny, now you just tell me what the matter is dear, and we'll see to it together, hmm?" her mother supplied encouragingly.

Ginny latched onto her mother as best she could, crying harder into her bosom and ignoring the scratches from the bearded dragon she clutched.

"Oh, Mum! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I swear I didn't mean to!" she cried.

Molly Weasley hugged her baby girl to her and gave ugly looks to the nosy shoppers nearby. No one stopped to check on the poor crying girl, but several inched closer to try and listen in on what was being said. So, moving off to the side of the street, Molly ushered Ginny into an alcove where there was a relative difference in noise pollution and foot traffic.

"Oh goodness. Come now, Ginny dear. Tell me what's wrong? It couldn't be that bad now could it? After all, you've survived far worse than any other woman I've met, and you're still my beautiful girl, aren't you?" she smiled comfortingly as she stroked Ginny's hair and rocked her gently.

Ginny's cries began to lessen and die down as she took the comfort her mother offered and breathed slowly through her mouth. She didn't want to tell her. Didn't want it to be true. She just wanted to go back and redo things. Not flirt with that guy, not allow him to fondle her underneath her skirt, not tell him she was more experienced than she was, certainly not allow him to enter her unprotected. Wizards could cure a lot of things, but a baby wasn't one of them. They frowned on that more severely than they did single motherhood. And what could she say? That she didn't even know who the father was? That she could take care of the baby? She _couldn't_. She hadn't even finished school. And now, though she felt horrible for thinking it, she had effectively ended her family's Pureblood lineage as well. She was the shittiest daughter ever.

Her mother continued to whisper sweet words and stroke her hair even after her breathing returned to normal and she'd stopped crying. Anger overtook Ginny now. Anger at her actions, at her friends for not stopping her, and at the world in general. Fiercely, she looked up at her mother and stepped slightly away. She didn't deserve to be crying over this. They were her actions and if she was woman enough to get into this mess, she would be woman enough to take her lumps. Even if they did last for eighteen years. With a deep breath, Ginny blinked away the last vestiges of her tears and looked at her mother. Molly Weasley looked back at her girl and prepared herself to understand what she was going through.

"Mum, I've done something very foolish. It's my fault entirely, and I know you and Dad are going to be upset. Just please… _don't_ be upset. Don't yell."

She hated it when her mother yelled. She hated it worse when her _father_ yelled. He did it so very rarely she didn't even want to think about it. Looking away from her mother's pleading face now, she clenched her fists and gave a hiss as the lizard stuck her with his thorny talons. Shit, she'd forgotten she was holding the damned thing and placed him into the empty cage her mother had placed on the ground.

"I snuck out of the house a few months ago… with some friends from school. There was a party, and I … I …"

Growling, Ginny smacked herself on the head. Why couldn't she just say it?! Molly stepped forward and took Ginny by the elbow. Her eyebrows slanted down as she looked into her daughter's eyes.

"Just out with it Ginny. That's the best way." She said sternly.

Knowing her mother wouldn't wait much longer before going full maternal on her, she pressed her lips together and nodded quickly.

"Mum. I think I'm pregnant."

There. She had done it. She finally uttered aloud what she'd been agonizing over for weeks. All the signs were there. The weak stomach aches, the mild temperature, the missing cycle, the gas. It was all there. And now she was here. Molly hadn't said anything, just cocked her head to the side and looked at her daughter like she was some magical creature she'd never witnessed before. For a short while, neither of them spoke. Then Ginny decided to take the reins again.

"It was only one time, Mum. This boy and I… we only met the once. And I know how stupid that was. And I'm sorry. But I'm here now… and I need you, Mum. I don't know what to do." She said quietly as her eyes betrayed her once again.

She wiped furiously at her weeping orbs before her mother brought a hand up to her chest and sighed.

"Oh Ginny… why didn't you say anything? Have you even checked? Do you know how?"

Ginny didn't know how. She just knew. Though shaking her head in the negative caused her mother to whip out her wand and flourish it over her head. The swirling wand movements ended at her naval and a moment later, a blue glow emanated from her belly.

"What does that mean?" she asked, hoping it wasn't a boy. She'd hoped for a girl.

"It only means that you are, in fact, pregnant Ginny." Her mother said solemnly.

"Mum, I know you're upset, but I've at least made plans to try and find the father… because maybe he'd want to know, but he's a muggle so…"

"No worries dear, if worse come to pass, then your father an I will deal with the memory charm. And as for your father, best just to let me talk to him first."

Ginny stood a moment in wonder. She'd feared this day for the past two weeks. So much so, that she'd been sick several times and stayed away from family gatherings for the most part. Yet here, her mother seemed to be taking things all in stride. How did she do it?

"… Mum?"

"Yes dear?" her Mum replied distractedly.

She was clearly trying to find a way to manipulate her husband into being ok with this. After the fallout with Percy, nearly losing Fred in the Battle of Hogwarts, and Bill to lycanthropy, she'd be damned if she willingly pushed her only girl away for mothering new life.

"How are you being so calm about all of this? I can't imagine why you're not screaming at me…"

Molly looked down at Ginny in shock.

"Ginny! I'm you're _mother_. If anyone knows what it's really like to be young and with child, I assure you it is me. I don't think we ever talked about this, but your father and I were married because I'd fallen pregnant. And at a very young age myself. Now dear, you just hand those bags back here and let me deal with your father. Alright? Go and enjoy some time with your friends before school—"

"But Mum—"

"Ah! No _buts_. Now _go_!"

So, she went. And Molly stood in the alleyway collecting her thoughts about life before flicking her wand at the multitude of bags and supplies, shrinking them down to a simpler size and walking off in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.

As soon as the cost was clear, and all was quiet again, two figures stepped out of the shadows down that same alleyway near Nocturne. The identical grins on their faces promised mischief considering such great news! Oh, what a schoolyear _this_ would be.


	5. Chapter 4 Return

Draco stood in the doorway of his thirteen-bedroom home and peered out over the red and yellow rose bushes. The two flowers intermingled and stretched down a winding path to the wrought-iron gates at the end of the drive. Idly, he wondered why they even had a driveway, as his wizarding lineage negated any need for such travel. Thinking that perhaps he would invest in a car now that he knew how to drive, he cautiously placed his left foot on the first red-brick step and waited for his right to follow down to the next. The air today was crisp and cool. It wasn't quite winter yet, but the temperatures were definitely dropping.

In the past, he loved how the clouds stretched out from their cumulonimbus puffs into the ones that resembled half-eaten fairy floss. He used to wait with baited breath for the days when he could go back-to-school shopping with his mother in Diagon Alley and visit the shops to see what new items were available for purchase. Seeing his friends with their parents was always a laugh and they would exchange stories of their summers while showing off their expensive things to the kids who couldn't afford to have them. He was known as the crème-de-la-crème back then. The youngest Malfoy who would also one day be the richest as he was the only heir to the estate. He was an intelligent lad with a handsome face and perfect hair, and he was magical to boot.

Stopping as he reached the last step, Draco looked up into the skies and sighed. He knew it was pointless and that it would change nothing, but still he lamented his foolishness. He'd had it all back then and he'd squandered it because it wasn't enough. Why was nothing ever enough for him? He hadn't needed to become a Death Eater. Yes, the Dark Lord required him to murder his elderly headmaster, and yes, he'd asked if Draco thought he could manage to get Death Eater's into the school unannounced, but he hadn't been asked to join the black-hearted monsters who'd reveled in the blood of his schoolmates. That was all Draco. Why he ever thought he could hang with them was far beyond him now.

Coughing as he choked back his guilt, Draco looked out over his empty estate. Blaise was not here with him. He said he'd meet him on the train in their usual seats and that Pansy would be with him. He said it didn't matter to him that Draco was now a leper to his country, and Pansy had implied the same as she'd spoken to him through the fireplace, but neither of them was here now and he didn't think he could do this alone. What would happen when he got to the train station? Should he apparate directly onto the platform? Would that cause disguised Aurors to cast hexes at him, or students to shriek in fear of him? Would he be attacked by Potter and Weasel and not allowed onto the train? Would he have to stand there on the platform alone and watch as the Hogwarts Express pulled away without him and all the students bellowed curse words from their windows? Would he cry? Again?

Backing up toward the stairs to his home, he began to panic.

"Merlin, I can't do this! Maybe I can miss the train? Surely McGonagall will understand why I… bloody hell. I just can't." he gasped, clutching his chest.

Draco sprinted back into his home and slammed the door closed in fear of what was on the other side. His panting picked up as more and more images of what could be raced through his head. He berated himself when he felt tears streaming down his cheeks and into the high collar of his shirt. Knocking his head against the door, he slid down the barrier to the floor and took great deep breaths through his mouth as he cried.

One small gasp and a pop later, and his mother, the matriarch of the Malfoy Estate came hurrying in, practically floating across the marble floor in her lush green robes.

"Draco! Darling, what is it? I thought you'd already left for school!" she cried as she knelt next to him and attempted to gather her son, twice her size, into her arms.

Draco did not rebuke her embrace, but he remained rigid and seemingly cold. He shook his head as he tried to gather himself enough to speak.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mother. I didn't mean to startle you. I thought you'd be on the veranda for tea at this time." He spoke formally.

Narcissa peered down at him, tucking his growing hair behind an ear and smoothing her delicate hands over his cheeks to shush him.

"Never you mind that." She spoke sternly.

"Ory came to fetch me as he was unsure how to help you. Draco, please tell me this isn't you being concerned about going back to that school. I've told you what I think, and you needn't leave if you aren't comfortable there. You don't know what I'd give to have you here with me. Honestly, you—"

"I'm going, Mother." He cut in.

The pair gazed at each other uneasily for a moment as Narcissa weighed how best to manipulate her son, and Draco thought about how to pretend he wasn't scared. Opting to pick himself up from the floor to start, Draco stood, bringing his mother up with him. She attempted to gaze into his eyes and implore he stay with her in hiding, but he refused to meet her eyes. Inhaling deeply and building his resolve once more, Draco turned to break out of her grasp.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I don't know what came over me just then, but I didn't mean to assert that I wouldn't be going to Hogwarts. I am going. I'm expected." He told her in a voice much like his father's.

Narcissa clasped her hands together in front of her bodice and pursed her lips. Draco hated her disapproving stance and showed it by fidgeting next to her. He looked around the foyer at stone statues and moving paintings of flower fields. He looked up at the grand chandelier. Then he looked back toward his mother.

"I was… I may have… forgive my speech, Mother." He said quietly as he tucked both lips into his mouth for a moment.

"Draco, you don't have to go." She reiterated.

Draco nodded. He was aware of the continued surety of his family vaults at Gringotts. But he simply could not be the first Malfoy in history to fail to finish school. The Ministry had not offered to let him sit his N.E.W.T.S. at home. Nor had they offered any alternative way to attend his classes. He had to go back, though they were probably hoping he wouldn't. He had to succeed at _something._ His only _real_ shot had already presented itself. Graduating Hogwarts as Head Boy was it. If he squandered this, what else was there?

Draco looked around his lavish settings once again and shook his head. He wanted more than this. He wanted to be somebody worth mentioning, worth _knowing_. Fuck it. He wanted to be loved again. And he wanted to make his mother proud. It was all he could think about ever since he'd received his surprisingly staunch request from Headmistress McGonagall. Her notice had been short and to the point. He wasn't welcome, but she hadn't a choice, so he'd better not make her look bad. And that was it. It iterated that Hermione Granger was to be Head Girl and that she was great and worthy and blah blah blah. She practically told him to kiss the swot's shoes and he'd be damned if he did so. Granger may not be the source or target of his ire for her blood status anymore, but she was still annoying as hell.

Standing with resolve, Draco took his hand and fished out his pocket watch. 9:48 a.m.

"I must go, Mother. Wish me luck, yeah? I fear I may need it this year." He said and apparated himself away before he could think better of it.

Landing directly in the center of Platform 9 ¾ was the second greatest mistake he'd ever made. At once, every living being in the train station stopped moving and stared at him in shock. Draco stood there in his pressed grey slacks, his slightly soggy dress shirt, and his best robe, and didn't breathe. Nobody moved, and it wasn't until an especially miniscule child ran up to Draco and kicked him in the back of the knee, that anyone said anything at all.

"There ya go kid! Get him again!" somebody called as his leg buckled underneath him.

Draco turned his head, looking for the source of the voice with shock on his face.

"No." he whispered, almost to himself.

Another young boy quickly ran upon him to smack his head and yank out a few strands of his hair. Draco envisioned the boy stealing his essence to brew a Polyjuice and had to remind himself that his drastic way of thinking wouldn't help. A foot in his back had the wind escaping his lungs and Draco braced himself on the stone flooring of the magical platform.

"Stop!" he cried, cursing his gripping fear.

"Stop!" he cried again as someone's boot came down into his face.

He spat blood from his mouth and looked around at the adults who stood about. None of them moved, yet all of them watched. It disturbed him greatly that they were watching. When did this become ok?

"Sthap!" he tried to call out again after a forceful hex ripped into him from the side.

His tongue swelling in his mouth caused it to become difficult to breathe and he regretted thinking he could make it onto the train before anyone could notice him. What a stupid thing to believe. A wand tip raised into his line of vision as he struggled to take in oxygen. Laying there on his belly as he gagged, Draco cursed every man, woman, and child into oblivion through his glare. Merlin, they were killing him and nobody even cared!

"He said _**STOP**_!" came a fierce bellow from the opposite end of the platform.

Gasps were heard as people hurriedly grabbed their children away from his body and fled to the safety of the benches nearby. Some brave souls attempted to stare down his only savior and hovered over his twitching body regardless of the obvious threat that was before them. Draco felt his face turning purple with tightness of his throat and sincerely feared for his life before a cool set of hands settled themselves over his swelling cheeks. Turning him over onto his back, he looked into deep brown eyes and felt shock at the emotion he found there. She was terrified for him.

"Merlin… stay with me Draco! I can fix this! I can fix this!" she rasped as she opened up a small bag and reached inside.

Not knowing the counter curse to whatever he was afflicted with, she pulled out a bezoar and stuffed it into his mouth, then using her wand, she caused it to slide past his engorged tongue and into his throat. Draco jack-knifed off the ground in pain though she held him to her. Through the slits in his eyes he could see several students now coming to his aid, and several others falling back. The few who stood to protect him each held a wand out toward the crowd, daring someone to step up and begin a fight. There was yelling from many of the parents in the crowd, and though his head was swimming with near unconsciousness, Draco could hear their accusing tones.

"I don't care one whit what you've all got to say about me! If you want to get at Malfoy, you'll have to go through me!" his savior cried.

"And me!" came a second voice.

Draco recognized them but save for the cool and delicate hands which were wiping away the blood from his lips, he was hard pressed to think of much else. The swelling in his throat was dissipating now, and he was breathing slowly through his nose, re-oxygenating his brain while his female placatingly gave him support. Three sets of hands then lifted him to his feet and his head swam, lolling to the side as they dragged him to the train. Nobody else approached, but the jeers didn't end. The people of Kings Cross Station let the eighteen-year-old Malfoy know exactly what they thought of him through their screeches of anger and hate. They would be petitioning the Ministry for his expulsion, they promised. And no amount of support from other _students_ would save him from their wrath. One man swore to have all his family's gold stripped from him as well so that he could live like the pauper he deserved to be. And once that happened, his bread shop would close its doors to him and feed any leftover crumbs to the rats instead of his mother. This comment hurt him the worst as he thought of his mother, sitting at home worrying, rightly, about him.

Resolving to stand a bit straighter and maneuver on his own, Draco pushed away the fumbling hands of the three who'd come to his aid and without looking back, walked steadily onto the train to find his seat.

* * *

On the train, two sets of eyes watched, horrified, as the blonde was beat within an inch of his life by four third years. The adults on the train station stood by and watched, some with disgusting grins, as the teenager was throttled by some nasty hex. Then, as he turned colors and gasped for air, they all stood there, waiting. It wasn't what they'd hoped for after such a bloody war had taken place, but how could they have expected more? These were, after all, the same complacent fools who'd allowed the war to begin in the first place. Shaking their heads, they sat back and waited as they saw Malfoy boarding the train at last. Before long, the door to their compartment slid open and the young man they'd been waiting for stood there smiling warily.

"There you two are" he stated as he slumped into a seat by his best friend.

No one spoke in return and though he attempted to appear unaffected, it seemed he would not get a pass on this. So, sensing the tension in the air, he decided he may as well nip this situation in the bud.

"Look. I know what you saw out there looked bad, but it was taken care of. Don't worry about it." he said seriously.

"Don't worry about it?" came his female friend.

"Harry, they nearly killed him… you were supposed to—"

"I know! Alright? I know. But Malfoy's friends showed up and it seemed well in hand… alright?" Harry huffed in agitation.

Ron looked to Hermione with a shrug and she shook her head in disappointment. Harry had _one_ job. Get Malfoy to the train in one piece. Let the kids at the station know that he was aware of and accepted the fact that Malfoy would be going back to Hogwarts. If Malfoy had his support, then they could avoid a scene in the great Hall once everyone filed in. Now, since he'd been allowed to get his arse beat, there would be others who would challenge him away from the prying eyes of their parents. This was no good. It didn't help that even Ronald appeared to realize this as he cast a sideways glance at Harry.

"Alright then boys, I guess we'll just have to let this play out and see what comes of it. Besides, when have any of our other plans ever worked out?" she asked sportingly.

"You mean the ones we actually followed?" Ron asked with a sly grin.

Hermione closed her eyes as she laughed breathily. Harry's cheeky grin spread across his face, too, as he nodded his head along.

"I'm sorry Herms…" he began, but she waved him off.

"Don't think on it Harry. Maybe I'm forcing it a bit. We should probably just let him adjust and not allow him to be bloodied anymore. The last thing the Headmistress needs is for the students to run amok her first year as Head. We'll do what we can, yes?"

Both boys agreed, and as the train pulled away from the station, Hermione found herself grateful that more of the Slytherin's opted back into school this year. She may not have thought it possible if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, but they'd just banned together for a good cause. They'd saved the life of Draco Malfoy.


End file.
